


WKIR, Kirkwall University's Favorite Station

by sixnumbers



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bisexual Character of Color, Fluff and Humor, Gen, M/M, Male Character of Color
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-17 01:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3510422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixnumbers/pseuds/sixnumbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeremiah Hawke is the semi-successful host of The Yet Untitled Hour, popular due to his penchant for playing calming jazz during prime study time. Who he wishes noticed him more, to his dismay, is Fenris, who hosts the show before his with Isabela. With all the flirting Isabela and Fenris do on the show, Jeremiah doesn't even want to attempt asking him out. And he's a mess of nerves, anyway. But, things are always changing at Kirkwall University, home of the Knights. Or, at least, that's what Feynriel says on his show.</p><p>(a college FenHawke AU, full of cute.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Agenda

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again!
> 
> This is a really dweeby pet project of mine. I love AUs, as you can probably tell (-shifty eyes-).
> 
> Let me tell you about my other child, [Jeremiah](http://41.media.tumblr.com/50e29b0e78bf53e3c85087adff18167f/tumblr_nju1xheuFy1qbd2mbo1_1280.jpg) [Hawke](http://40.media.tumblr.com/bd69ebf73146eee301a23999565401f1/tumblr_njsma2MxYw1qbd2mbo4_1280.jpg). isn't he cute? He's still pretty blue, but honestly he shifts easily into purple or red. He's an artist (visual), rogue, and picks up skills at the drop of a hat. Well, the ones that involve his hands. He's not a great writer (much to Varric's chagrin). Miah likes painting, kids, dogs, and of course, getting into fights. What's a Hawke without that??
> 
> His relationship to Fenris is a little lighter, as he's not nearly as intense as Fenris is about everything. He still respects his boundaries, listens to him, and provides a safe space for his emotions. Think Ichabod (Fenris) and Abbie (Jeremiah) for a good comparison.
> 
> (also a good point to link [this](http://applejuice-and-hemlock.tumblr.com/post/112555067901/fenris-and-jeremiah-on-their-wedding-day-for-the) lovely art applejuice-and-hemlock made for me.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fenris and Isabela goof off.

“Hello, loves! Thanks for tuning in, or welcome back! This—is WKIR, Kirkwall University's one and only radio station! And of course, I'm your _hostess_ with the _mostess,_ Isabela. No last names,” she chuckled. “You'll make it weird.”

Fenris rolled his eyes, handing her the white and blue tentacle pipe. Technically there was no smoking in the broadcast booth, but they only specified tobacco. And since she couldn't bring in any drinks besides water, this was an alternative. “And this is your other host for the past hour, Fenris.”

Isabela sighed with content, taking the pipe from him and picking up her own metal lighter. He was pretty, with his shocking white hair and inexpicably black eyebrows. Big, expressive eyes, though he frequently glared. She wasn't sure if she was scared or turned on. Maybe a little of both.

“What's on our agenda for the day, Fen?” She pushed away from the desk to light up, smirking behind Fenris to Merrill, who was flailing her hands for them to stop.

“After our show finishes in ten minutes, Jeremiah will taking over with R&B and jazz standards on the Yet Untitled Show. At 10pm, Samson will be playing industrial and metal on The Dragon Lair, and WKIR will sign off until 6am, where Feynriel will bring us Kirkwall U Today.”

“I do love our other hosts. But you, most of all.”

Fenris supressed a smirk, but Isabela was already chuckling, almost choking on the smoke in her nostrils.

 


	2. Office Hours

“There are some really great writers in your class, Hawke, but you need to work on your sentence structure.”

“Was it that bad?”

Jeremiah wasn't there to have normal conversation, but was hoping for a little writing help. His last submission in his creative writing class ended up earning him a C. No plus, no minus. Just a C. He thought his little story about two runners falling in love was perfectly fine.

Varric rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I may have lost teeth due to sweetness. Or gained several cavities. And to think, my dentist was just getting proud of me cutting back on coffee.”

Jeremiah huffed. “I like a good romance!”

“This was next level, Hawke. Tone it down a little next time. And you say 'heaving' too much for having two gay men as main characters.”

Jeremiah frowned. “What did your boss think?”

“Do you really think Dr. Wordy reads all that stuff? Trust my opinion for a change. You've got the right bones, but all the wrong meat around them.”

Miah kept frowning.

“Don't look at me like that, Hawke. You got yourself into this. Write yourself out.”

“Will you help me out?”

“Not more than I can. Look, we're friends and all, but you knew I couldn't let you completely slide in this class. If you want more help, ask Mermaid. She's still making eyes at you, right?”

“Not at me, when she seems more into Fenris.”

“Really? Isn't she taller than him?”

“That hasn't stopped her— _wait_. You want me to ask _Isabela_ for help? Why?”

Varric chuckled. “She's the only person in our group that got an A. She didn't tell you?”

Miah definitely heard her sing-songy “ _Guess who managed to get a good grade from Professor Tough-Ass?_ ” echo in his mind.

“She might have. I don't remember everything she said.”

Miah shrugged, and Varric laughed again, quietly. He wasn't the best at fudging the truth, unless it was absolutely dire. And Varric knew all his tells. A good friend who was also your TA was tough, but at least Varric wasn't ignoring him entirely.

“Let's talk about something else,” Varric said, crossing his arms. “Office hours can be exhausting. What else is new with you? How's the radio show?”

“Great! It's so far the highest rated one, next to Fenris and Isabela's one.”

“What do they call it? Brood and Food? Gravel and Siren?”

“I think they don't have a title. They just show up and bullshit.”

“Broody? Bullshitting?”

“Well, he more makes occasional comments and brings in music to play.”

“That sounds more like him. He's an interesting guy, when you get to know him.”

“And you do?”

“He was in a class two semesters ago. Wordy, but he's passionate.”

Jeremiah hummed, suddenly lost in thought about how far his passion went.

“Do you have a thing for him, Hawke?”

“Not really.”

Varric looked at him, not even needing to say 'Do you think I'm an idiot?'

“Okay. _Yes_. I have a thing for him.”

“Good luck with that,” he laughed. “Mermaid plays well with others, but she seems pretty set on him. Possibly enough to not share.”

“I don't have a chance against her.”

“You never know until you try. And until she stakes a claim, he's still out in the open. Don't think of it as a _competition_ , Hawke, or you'll always feel like a loser.”

Jeremiah idly checked his phone for messages, before realizing he had to head to the radio station.

“I've gotta get going, my show starts in fifteen!”

“Then I won't keep you. Still coming by for cards with the crew?”

“Wouldn't miss it,” Jeremiah said, scrambling for his backpack and out of his chair.

 


	3. Basketball Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carver's a freshman, and he's not doing terribly well on the Knights.

“Hawke! What the hell are you doing?”

Carver stopped dead in his tracks. He had simply passed the ball to Cullen, who was now idly spinning it in his hands.

“I was passing, Coach.”

Meredith walked onto the court and signaled for the ball. Cullen tossed it to her right away, and she caught it with ease.

“That pass could have been easily intercepted. Do you wanna help me demonstrate, Rutherford?”

“Sure,” he responded, getting closer to them both. Cullen raised his eyebrows, almost unsure if he should have agreed.

“Rutherford, I want you to try and block his pass to me. I'm trying to get to the hoop, and he's gonna pass like he _normally_ does.”

Cullen nodded, and the rest of the team fell back to watch. Carver dribbled, hunching down as if he was ready to move. Cullen seemed more intimidating than usual, having the same look that the other players had. Thrask was already out due to a hand injury, so it's not like he had anyone looking out for him.

When Carver finally made his move, Cullen played defense hard. Carver moved up the court with Cullen on his back, and when he was finally ready to pass, Cullen smacked the ball down hard. Meredith stood with her hands in her sweatpants pockets, looking pleased at the performance.

“Great work, Rutherford. Hawke, you need to work on some basics. Maybe see of the intermural team will let you practice with them?”

The other team members laughed, but Cullen looked apologetic. He weakly smiled at the other man, and it was more of a relief than Carver expected. He smiled back, going to pick up the ball.

“Hawke!”

Carver got shaken by the sudden interjection, but rushed over to Meredith.

“You need to get it together. I can't have you on the court with your current performance.”

“I'm sorry, Coach. I've been up studying for a while.”

“We can't have you on the court being sleepy. Maybe we'll put you into the Knights costume for a while while you work on your moves.”

A smile ghosted across her face while she moved away, and Carver clenched his teeth to not scream.


	4. Tuning In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah finally gets to the station, and is in for several surprises.

Jeremiah knocked on the door of the broadcast booth, waving at Fenris and Isabela. The speakers were playing a loud rock song, but he couldn't place it. Merrill was the first to wave back from the engineering booth, while Isabela burst into a grin and Fenris simply gave him a single nod.

Isabela got up to open the door, and Jeremiah was hit in the face with the smell of whatever pot Isabela insisted on growing at her house. “Oh, look who's here already! Always so prompt.”

“Am I interrupting?”

Jeremiah took note of the booth. One blue and white pipe, Fenris scrolling through his computer, and Isabela looking better suited for a night out at the bar.

“You, interrupt? Never,” Isabela crooned. “We just finished taking some calls.”

“The last person we had I think was your sister,” Fenris interrupted.

“Bethany?”

“Sounded like her,” he added. “Did a little promo for a charity bakesale.”

“Well, there is one coming up,” Miah shrugged. “She promised she would make mini-pies.”

“Then I'll have to go! If only to see the pretty faces of her and her bandmates.”

Merrill tapped on the glass and gave a countdown signal, and Jeremiah sat down in the extra chair as Isabela and Fenris put their headphones back on.

“We are back,” Isabela began, “And we have a guest. Well, sort of. You should all know our fellow channel-mate, Jeremiah Hawke! And if you don't, you really should.”

Jeremiah chuckled, grabbing the mic and putting on the other pair of headphones. “You're flattering me.”

“Absolutely! You are the jazzmaster, and even your _show title_ is cool. Tell us more.”

“There's nothing really to tell,” he laughed, catching Fenris' eye. The other man was listening intently, and his gaze made him break into a grin and look away. “I'm no different than the other hosts.”

“What do you do?”

“I'm a visual arts major here at Kirkwall. You might have seen the mural section I did for last year's School Spirit Week.”

“You were the one with the knight fighting the dragon, right? I liked it,” Fenris added. He seemed intrigued in the conversation now, leaning forward onto the table.

“Yeah, that was mine. I'm surprised the school accepted it. Some people found it generic. She was a woman knight, and she had dreads--I liked it.”

“It was--.”

“I thought it was pretty great, too,” Isabela interrupted, which made Fenris scowl. “Fu—screw the opinions of other people on that! It was a lot better than past ones.”

“Thank you,” Jeremiah responded, smiling a bit.

“Jeremiah starts his show in three minutes, so we'll be signing off for a commercial break. Thanks for tuning in again, Kirkwall U. Try not to get into any _major_ trouble while we're away. Good night!”

Merrill gave the sign off signal and everyone immediately relaxed, Jeremiah now spinning idly in his chair. Isabela got up to straighten her skirt and readjust her jacket.

“Do I look alright?”

“Of course you do. I've never seen you look any less than gorgeous.”

Isabela tossed her hair a bit, chuckling. “Charmer.”

“I simply speak the truth. Where are heading off to so dressed up anyway?”

“Oh! I have a date! With a very pretty woman.”

“Do I know this very pretty woman?”

“Oh, aren't you dying to find out. Maybe, maybe not. Don't worry, I'll still be at our weekly card game. You know Varric would never let me hear the end of it.”

“I can imagine the annoyance already,” Fenris added, still fiddling on his laptop. “Though maybe not, since you seem to win against me and Merrill all the time.”

“Are you suggesting I cheat?” She scoffed with faux indignation. “And to think, I brought some of my best bud to share.”

“I have had better,” he smirked.

Isabela rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I could say that about plenty of other things. Beggars can't be choosers, love. Now I've got to go grab a taxi before I'm really late.” She lightly hugged Jeremiah goodbye, playing with his braids a bit in her fingers before she let go, heading for the door without giving Fenris a second glance.

Merrill's voice came over Jeremiah's headphones. “You're almost on. Did you want me to find another commercial to play so you can set up?”

“No,” he responded, “I'll just talk for a bit while I—Fenris? Aren't you going to get going?”

“No need. I have no plans until you do.”

“You're—coming to the card game?”

“Isabela invited me. I don't know how to get there,” he added with a bit of defeat in his voice.

Jeremiah felt the blush on his face, suddenly nervous. He regathered himself in time to do his intro.

“Good evening, Kirkwall U. This is The Yet Untitled Show, with your host, Jeremiah Hawke. Artist, artisan, and occasional barfly.”

Fenris snickered. Jeremiah would be in for an interesting night.


	5. an attempt was made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremiah tries to learn about Fenris. Tries, is the key word.

As he grabbed his laptop to set up, Miah attempted to talk about what was going on with him.

“How is everyone out there? It’s another long Tuesday, and I can’t say I’m not looking forward to the weekend.”

Jeremiah hooked up the right inputs for audio and started some low background music. Fenris sat quietly, twirling in his chair slightly. He seemed a little nervous, as if he didn’t feel right about being here.

“As you know already, I’m still going to be a part of the Spring Art Show, which is unusual given my submissions were dismissed for three years in a row. Even with that, Dean Orsino still hates my artwork, but I guess that won’t change anytime soon. Dean, I know you listen to my show. I won’t take your critique on my usage of acrylic paints seriously. Anyway,” Miah huffed. “I have a bit of special guest.”

“A bit of? I'm all here.”

Jeremiah made a face, while the other man shrugged with a smirk. Insufferable, he thought. Why didn’t Isabela just give him the address? Unless--no. That can’t be it. Bela didn’t even know.

“Fenris, if you didn't recognize his voice, from the earlier show. What's it called again?”

“It's just Isabela and Fenris on WKIR.”

“--really?”

“Yeah. That's the name we applied with.”

“It could be cute. What about Fenbela Hour or something?”

He laughed. “I don't think Isabela would react well to her name being second. It's more her brainchild than mine.”

“Well, I have to ask. Do you like jazz?”

“Could take it or leave it, honestly.”

Jeremiah narrowed his eyes.

“I'm kidding,” Fenris laughed. “It's good, I listen to it on and off.”

“That's—a surprise actually.” Miah cleared his throat. “Since I’m sure you’re all tired of hearing me, how about we start the show with a little Coltrane? I know, cliché, but it's my show. We’ll be back in ten.”

Jeremiah started the song, trying to not chuckle as he did so. Merrill gave him an okay signal from the booth, and he took of his headphones.

“I didn’t expect you to be a jazz man, Fenris.”

“You're surprised?”

“Your whole look doesn't scream 'mellow'.”

“Ah, that.”

Everytime Jeremiah had seen Fenris, he seemed intent to wear black in some form. Black jeans, black t-shirt, or the black jacket he wore in the fall. Covered with steel studs, though he had a penchant to go barefoot. Then there was his white hair, in stark contrast to his clothes but complimenting the elaborate tattoo on his neck. It seemed to slink down under his collar, but he tended to avoid thinking about what Fenris looked like shirtless. Mainly because then he might think about what other things under his clothes would look like.

“I listen to your show on the way back to my apartment,” Fenris added.

“So you live off campus? What year are you?”

“I’m a junior, just like you.”

“Really?”

“You say 'really' a lot.”

“You surprise me at every turn. I don’t remember seeing you before.”

“I transferred from University of Tevinter.”

He’d heard of the school, but it was too far and too expensive to consider. The art program was internationally known, even more so than Nevarra’s, but the climate for non-Vints was notoriously rocky.

“So, you’re from there?”

“Kinda. I don’t remember much of my childhood, so I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

Miah was confused at that statement. Who would forget such basic facts about their childhood? He decided against prying too much. There had to be a good reason, though he’d be interested in figuring out what it was. As if he could read his mind, Fenris shrugged again and went back to his own computer.

 


End file.
